Murder Files
by xDooms Madnessx
Summary: A collection of SoMa stories, that all have something to do with murder or crime. Hence the Murder Files as the titles, meaning this is files of muder stories, I guess... I take request! PM me or drop a reveiw of what insane SoMA ness you want! NO LEMONS. SERIES OF ONE-SHOTS. Always Complete. Rated M only for gore and violence, there are no lemens or limes in these stories.
1. Fingerprints

**Maka Albarn, an 18 year old serial killer who has never been identified, never been caught, and never know by anypne but her victems and three acomplies. Soul Evans, is the son of a Detective and runs into a huge road block that he can't get around.  
**

**I am increadibly proud of this story :D I apologize for any mistakes! Hope you enjoy.**

**And I'll probably be working on a Zombie AU soon. :3 Braiinnnssss. xD Though that wouldn't happen until wayyyyy later. **

* * *

Wiping her fingerprints from all surfaces, warring gloves to prevent them from getting on anything else. The knife she had taken from the butchers block in the kitchen was washed, dried and back in place. The only trace of her ever being in this household was the mops of bloody corpses laying in their beds. Blankets pulled over their bodies while she called the whispered in the boys ears; something that he was never to tell anyone, because if he did, she would put him with his family. Then, she called 911 and handed it to the little boy tied up in a chair. Removing the gag as she heard the other end pick up.

Time to leave.

The little boy started crying out to the people on the line. Screaming and crying indistinct pleads of help while he sent out his address. She could have killed him, too. But then no one would know she was here, no one would draw the police to the home for the crime to be discovered. Because she drugs them before she kills them, all is silent, no screamming, nothing to be heard. Someone wouldn't have found out for another few days. She needed an instant discovery.

That was how everyone knew the malicious Albarn was there. Everyone who had heard of her murders knew how to be certain it was her. She always let one live. Always keeping them captive in a separate room to hear the silent cries of their family as she stabs them in their sleep. She would also purposely let the cops come. Let them find her felony*, she has no reason to hide the things she takes pride in. Yes, it makes the wiping off of the finger prints pretty pointless, but that's another characteristic in her schemes. No one had her finger tips. Not in one single crime she had comitted had she ever left a finger print anywhere. Because then they would have her identity.

No one has ever seen her face but her victems, so she was know as Masquerade Maka.

Running up the stairs and out the window to the backyard, she fled from the scene and went to her 'head quarters'. But did she know she left an amazingly looked over piece of evedence with her?

Nope.

* * *

"Did you catch her this time?" An 19-year-old with shinning white hair and blazing red eyes asked his father, who was coming home after a day of searching for the Albarn killer. He was shoving a piece of his left over sandwich from lunch in his mouth, glazing the corner of his estuary*.

"No, Soul, she got away again! This girl is impossible to catch, and if we get lucky and do, she escapes..." His father murmured, angered. He has had such a hard time following Albarn's crimes in the first place, but they've only been getting harder for them to predict her next moves. "And the worst part is, this time she made a little boy suffer. He was so scarred that he got sent to the hospital for help, poor kid." His father sniffed hard and rubbed his temple.

"Sam, why don't you just take a break from work for a while?" Soul's mother, Clementine, came into the room. Worried for her husband's health. "All of this 'Chasing Masquerade Maka' is putting too much stress on you, you know what the doctor said-"

"Clem, I can't take a break from this case. You know that." Samuel reminded his wife calmly. "If I quite this case, then it'll be the third one this year. I can't do that, or I'll get fired."

Soul had just began texting his friend, Black*Star, he had heard the conversation on his fathers heath and safety so many timed that it was like it was permanently imprinted in his mind. Not listening to the rest of the discussion, he carried away in his own little world. Being pulled out when he heard his mother say:

"What if Soul helps you."

And his father say:

"Are you kidding me? Have you seen the boy's report card? What makes you think he can work on an investigation crew?!" A few more words of the once calm conversation turned argument got more into why or why not he should aid his father during work. Not all was bad, but the criticism on his 'detective' skills weren't very pleasant.

"Um... Mom, dad. You know I'm right here, don't you?"

Silence filled the room as his father sighed and his mother blushed guiltily and embarrassed. They all stared into one another's eyes as the awkward filled the room. Clementine face was still beat red and his father was looking around annoyed.

"S-sorry, Soul..." His mother apologized softly. "I just think it would be a great idea-"

"Clem. I already said he wasn't to help me." Samuel sighed again.

"But, what if he just, carry stuff for you, or something? He doesn't actually have to be on the team, but he can do something can't he? Look after you, so you don't push yourself too much!"

"Clem-" His father was going to try to sooth his wife, for she was about to fly off the handle.

"You even said you wanted him to be an investigator when he graduates! Couldn't this be practice?" Clem was defiantly out of control now, this happened often when she wanted something; but it usually wasn't involving Soul. He wasn't ready for the sudden attention as his parent's turned toward him. He missed it, his dad caved in and had obviously agreed to letting his son go with him while he works.

Backing away, back to his room, where he could hopefully reach before his mother snaps the rubber bands she carries on his arm. She had said it was a good way to get his attention.

"Soul, where do you think you're going?" His mother said, sweetly. Taking a pink rubber band from her wrist.

"I-I'm going to..." His eyes wandered from mother to father, "Help dad at work." He finished. Upon hearing so, his mother's mouth fell into a pleased smirk.

"Good, now, go do your homework."

"But mom, it's only Saturday-" His mother holds up the rubber band, "And it's a perfect d-day to be doing h-homework!" And he raced up the stairs, safe and away from his rubber wielding mother.

* * *

Now Sunday, Soul was walking with his father to the recent scene of the crime. The family had only lived a block or two away from his own, so not that far. He went to school with the families daughters, Liz and Patti Thompson. He didn't know them to well, but he happened to be acquainted with the elder sister's boyfriend, Kid. Soul couldn't help but frown at the thought of how the poor guy had called him over to his place when he found out. It was only yesterday that any friends or family had been notified of the murders. The crime actually happened on Friday, so everyone would have either been working or at school, just waiting to be released.

"Now, son," His father started, looking toward him as they neared the victim's home, "I need you know that you don't really have to do anything. You're anly here because of your mother's-"

"I know dad. You don't have to tell me." He sighed, knowing his father, the guy probably did.

"... Sorry, Soul. I just wanted to remind you..."

They ended up walking the last short distance in silence.

_**- inside the scene -**_

The room held only a few people, one of Soul's father's co-detectives, and Death, Kid's father. They were talking about each other, Samuel joined them as he told Soul to go wait somewhere else untill he needed him.

So, he went upstairs, into the mom and dad's room first. The orange bed sheets were died red, and the pillows looked soaked with signs of gore. Splats of some crimson on the walls, all to disturbing to look at for long. The night stands next to the bed held a pill bottle and a glass of water, and a manila folder.

Opening it, he saw the pictures of the bodies slashed open torso and hollow eyes. literally, the mother had _hollowed out _eyes, they were open, only showing bloody pools where someone once had eyes. It was sickening. The father's eyes, however, were still closed. But it showed a missing left hand and a right one with mo fingers. As well as that, none of the corpses had ears.

Soul dropped the folder, and pictures. All fluttering to the ground and he rushed out of the room, to revolted to go back and put the objects back in their rightful positions. So he went onto the sisters rooms.

Odd yellow and brown spots, as well as pink, welcomed him as he entered. Half of the room was painted one way, and the other a different. The side containing various pictures of giraffes coated the walls, and stuffed ones laying in a heap on the floor and bed of one, the other had magazines and nail polishes on every surface. There were cloths laying in a basket in the corner, on the dresser of the pink sided room another manila folder lay open.

This one showed the familiar faces of the Thompson sisters. Liz and Patti both having separate pictures and torn limbs. Liz's face was covered in blood, twisted into a horrified look. She had been awake when she was killed, the picture said it all. Her eyes were closed but her twisted expression and awkward body position could obviously showed she had been in an up right and awake when she witnessed a knife get darted into her sister's head. There was a paper withing the folder that said she had taken a hard blow to the head, meaning she had to be knocked out before she was done in. Another picture had shown her missing both feet with only stubbed bones left in their place.

Missing both hands, and a mouth with no teeth. Soul's stomach churned. All of this was so disturbing and grotesque that he wanted to throw up. Patti Thomson had only suffered through a shark stab through the brain and missing fingers. There wasn't much blood in this particular room, he thought that maybe it was because there wasn't as much slashing done, Soul didn't really care.

His attention was directed to a _clink _that came from Patti's side of the room. There was phone laying beneath the young girls bed, it couldn't have been her's because her phone was still on a charger sitting atop of her night stand. Liz's phone was also sitting on her dresser. He reached down under the bed and picked it up, then he lowered himself onto the ground and slid underneath the mattress.

Right there, behind a metal rod of the bed frame, was a hollowed out hole, in the shape of the exact phone he had in his hands right now.

Turning it on, he gasped, the screen blinked on and played a message...

_'Hello, Maka, please type in your password to get access to your data."_

He had the killers phone. _  
_

* * *

"Oh _shit..."_

Maka felt around her pockets as she searched for her cell. Front pockets, nothing, back pockets, no. Coat pockets, her shoes. No where.

"What's wrong?" hissed an orange haired woman, with a spiraled pony tail and short choppy hair in the back. Her arms had black snake tattoos on them, and she was warring a black jump-suit with a hood.

"Y-yes, is s-something t-the matter, M-maka?" asked a concerned pink haired boy, shivering and holing his left arm with the right. Dressed in a long black old-style robe that is tight-fitting and ends at the mid-calf level on his legs. The sleeved holding large cuffing at the end.

"Yeaaa, what's wrong, girl? You forget to kill someone?" Teased a tall and tan man, and X-shaped scar on his face. Slick, black hair sprouted prom his scalp. He was dressed in a black shirt, and black pants. threatening at first sight, but an idiot once you've actually fought him.

"I left my goddamned phone at the house!" She grunted angrily as she punched the stone wall. Wincing when the hard surface collided with her hand. "Ah, crap!"

"Well, then why don't you just go back and get it?" suggested a smirking Ragnarök, "I can come with and protect you."

"No, you can't come with, and I'd have to wait till' night. The place is probably crawling with investigators, I'd be lucky if it was still there." She grimaced. Her phone held all of her information, for lack of a better device. She couldn't find the time or space to steal a laptop, or anything else for that matter. And not only had her phone help all of her information, it also had her location, and her list of victims.

This worried her all too much, she could be found out. Brought to prison and locked up tight, she had gotten away once, ans she knew they weren't going to let her go so easily the second time. Her new goal was to forget about her next murder, she was set on finding her phone for now.

So at night, she was going to sneak back into that house, and find her phone. Hoping it hadn't fallen from her clumsily chosen hiding spot.

* * *

He felt terrified.

terrified at himself. Instead of turning in the phone, he had kept it a secret. And now, here he was, and there _it _was. Siting on top of computer desk while he stared down at it. intensely studying all of its features and buttons.

The screen was still blinking, but instead of the message it had help before, it said:

_"I am sorry, your password is not correct. Please try again."_

So he did, not paying attention to the buttons he was pushing, his fingers had absent-mindedly typed in, "_papa"_, and he was unprepared for the phones message. Expecting it to be _"Please try again." _it instead gave an almost human response.

_"Maka, I thought you hated your father?" _

Eyes widening, he tried, _"Mama" _.

_'Welcome, Maka." _

He dropped the phone. Had he really just accesses a murder's phone? On accident? He began looking through the phone, grabbing a note pad to write things down. He found the address she was hiding at, her full name, all the people she had ever killed, and a list of who was next.

He came across a page, there were so many paragraphs. So Soul grabbed his laptop from his school bag, and started it up. Noticing the type of phone it was, he got his cord and plugged it into the PC and prayed to _God _that it plugged into the one he had acquired from the Thompsons household.

It did, his eyes lit up in amazement as the little box on the screen popped up.

_'Do you wish to:_

_Charge only, _

_transfer files, _

_upload picture/videos."_

He clicked on the 'Transfer files'. And as soon as he did, the screen started filling with pages and file locations. He had everything on his laptop now. Everything that the police could ever need to track her down and send her to jail was now in his hands.

But he didn't want to give the information to the cops. He wanted to keep it a secret. He wanted to go back to the house.

And he was.

* * *

The door was unlocked, so he walked in. His laptop in his bag while it was slung over his shoulder as he made his way into the living room. Seating himself on the couch, he took out the laptop and logged in. The files had been saved, but he still had the phone hooked up to his computer. The bright blue welcome screen shinning into the dark room.

Scanning over the screen, he wrote down anything he could, anything that helped him find more information on was going to get as much data as he could. Various pages containing journals and diaries, he wrote down bits and pieces of all of them.

Coming across a page with misplaced capitalized letters. He wrote out the letters on the note pad he had, most seemed to be random and out-of-place, only a few making sence to why they were capitalized. A few M's and S's the occasional C or R, those were the ones that made no sense to him, there was no connection to the letters; so he was positive there was no hidden word.

Giving up he scrolled across some more pages, all were more or less about the same thing. There was even more pictures of the Thompson sisters and other victims on the phone. She takes pictures of them herself? For some sick pleasure?

He felt like throwing up again.

* * *

"Ughn." she grunted after she fell from the windowsill. Then reached to try again. "Why is this so hard, I got in, ughn, last time."

The yellow painted building had been so easy to climb on her first entrance, now it was like the building was battling against her. Preventing her from getting inside again. She was on the same side, climbing to the same window, that was most likely in the same spot it had been in 2 days earlier. Maka just wasn't paying attention. She had wondered why she had even put her phone in that stupid hiding spot in the first place.

She had gotten closer to the window the second time, but her grip was slipping. She wasn't going to make it at this rate, someone was bound to see her. It was going to get light soon, and if she was out here when people started waking there was no way she would be getting her phone back.

Maka was just about to pull herself up the window when the door to the room opened. exposing a white haired guy about a year or so old er than her, she was only 18. Another reason she was surprized was that he had alabaster looking hair, and from what she had seen for about a second, he had red eyes as well. He was carrying a back pack over his shoulder and held a laptop in his hand.

He opened his computer back up, then she saw it. From the light emitting from the screen, she could see her phone. Attached to a cord, and attached to his computer. The screen had began shooting up screens as soon as the picture had actually turned back on.

This boy had found her phone and had all of her information. Though, he hadn't called the cops. Or anyone for that matter, she had not been ambushed at her hide out, she had not been tracked down. Why hadn't he? He didn't look like the kind of person who would just keep a killers phone and do nothing with it. He was just studying her.

"God dammit!"

She almost slipped. The sound of his voice had started her. He had talked, there was no one with him so he was talking to himself. She listened, this was almost interesting. The intriguing thing about this guy was that he hadn't turned in a murder's phone to any one.

"Ughh! Why wont this work, it's worked for everything else! Some killer with a obsession with their Mama? What kind of killer makes that the password for everything but one page!?"

How had he guess her password? She almost forgot that she locked almost every page with the same password. Hell, she forgot she put a password on anything!

"That the hell was I thinking anyway, I should have shown this to dad when I found it! Not keep the damn thing!... Maybe I should just, just drop everything and p-put the phone back? Yea. That's exactly what I should do... OH shit, I'm talking to myself now! URGH."

The kid was going ballistic, pacing back and forth while he talked to his inner confusion. He was irritated with himself, and Maka was irritated with everything. What was it that he had said? Give her phone to his dad?

Was his dad a cop?

Was her phone in the hands of the son of a police officer who was after her?!

* * *

Soul felt insane. He had started talking to himself, over a locked page. It wasn't his fault that it was the only page that had a different password was the only one that he was even merely interested in anymore.

And the computer was talking to him to, since it was hooked up the Albarn's phone. It still showed the messages that he had first encountered; _"Maka, I though you hated your father?" _and _"Welcome, Maka." _and even , _"Maka, what is wrong with you?" _when he had given up and had just started typing in random mashes of keys into the box.

_Fump._

His head jerked up. Towards the window, then to the door of the sister's room. Both were open, some one had come in through the window, but who?

He didn't want to think of the possibility that the Albarn killer had noticed that her phone was missing and she had come looking for it. But what if it was true, and she had seen him with it and was plotting to kill him, too?

Inching towards the door, as slowly as possible, he grabbed the handle and pulled it open even further than it had been. Once it was wide open, he saw nothing, so he started down the stairs. Cautious with every step, stalking down the woodwork. There seemed to be no sign of anyone. And to afraid to inspect further, he turned to get back to his laptop and go home after packing things up, and possibly deleting data off of the phone and slipping back to its former spot. Then he would get the hell out of this house.

But that's not what happened.

What happened was the exact opposite.

"Hello. Who might you be."

Falling backward down the stairs, he was dumbstruck. He couldn't make out the face because it was dark, but he sure as hell saw the green eyes that stared into his and terrified him to the core.

"W-what?! Who are you?"

"I belive I asked you that question first." She said, her voice was calm and monotone. "But if you insist, I am Maka Albarn. Now, I wont ask again. Who might you be?"

"M-maka.. A-albarn. Maka A-albarn. Maka Albarn..." He repeated, processing her name. Maka Albarn. He had just spoken to Maka Albarn, the 18-year-old girl who had committed more than 50 murders since she was 12. He was talking to her, or she was talking to him. He was being an idiot and sat vulnerable with a bruised ass at the bottom of the staircase.

"Yes, yes, yes; We've gone over this. _Who _are _you_."

"I'm I-I'm S-soul."

Oh crap! Why hadn't he given a fake name, now she was going to hunt down his own family and kill them!

"Hm... Well, nice to meet you, _Soul_. I think you'll be coming with me now."

"What? Why-"

And all was dark.

* * *

"Why is this kid so heavy?"

"Oh shut up, deal with it, Rag.

"Did you just call me Rag? You little-"

"Ragnarök, be calm. Now isn't the time for you two to start fighting."

* * *

They had made it back to the hide out.

And the character now recognised as Soul was sitting tied up in a chair while they all stared at him. He was knocked out and was probably going to have a major head ache. Maka laughed. This was all to funny for her.

Some guy had found her phone and was now kidnapped by her. But the only problem was she didn't know why she had kidnapped him, she should have just killed him. Merciless as she had any other victim.

But she didn't... Now why was that?

She didn't know.

Perhaps it had something to do with the fact she found him interesting. There was something in him that unconsciously pulled herself to him. As if it were reeling her in from a fishing line, and she couldn't escape the hook.

Maka didn't like it. But she wasn't going to kill him, he was far to interesting to murder.

"Wha- AHHH." And the sound of a chair flipping back ward.

"Oh good, he's awake." Medusa cooed. She had her cobra around her neck like a scarf. Crona was hiding from behind Ragnarök, claiming to 'not know how to deal with hostages', and Maka was working the blind fold off him.

He blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted to the light. He stared at all them wide-eyed as the boys brain caught up to what was happening. Once he did, he began struggling and freaking out, trying to break away from the restrictions.

"God, this guy squirms! Doesn't he know how to sit still?" Ragnarök complained as he pulled a knife from his back pockets, starting towards Soul, who was sitting still now. Scared of what was to come. "I'll make him sit still." the devious smirk appeared on his face.

He raised his hand and ready to plunge it into the poor childs head.

* * *

"No, Ragnarök."

Soul nervously turned his head to look at the girl with Ash hair as the impending knife froze. He knew who it was, even if he hadn't seen her appearance before he could tell.

She opened her eyes and looked at him, he stiffened at the feel of her eyes on himself. She had just kidnapped him and had 3 other, probably very dangerous, friends with her. His heart was going to explode at this rate, if he didn't calm down he was going to panic and panicking will probably get him killed.

"I need him alive, so all of you go. I'll talk to him myself."

They all nodded and left. Soul felt even more scared now that she was the only one he had to be afraid of. He stared straight away, trying at all cost to avoid eye contact with her as she walked towards him.

"So, you found my phone. How?" She asked, removing the restraints from his feet and hands.

"I-I don't know" He lied, well, he actually didn't know how he had found it, it had found him.

"Oh, I'm sure you know that it's not a good idea to lie to me, _Soul._" She whispered in his ear. "If you didn't know how you found it, then you wouldn't have it. Now would you."

"I wish I didn't have it." Soul scared himself at how bold he sounded.

Maka didn't seem fazed at all. She just stared at him with a dirty look. "Of course," she started, closing her eyes again. "Who would want to have the phone of a killer. Knowing they could very well die if said killer knew that you had it."

"Tell me how you found it-"

"It fell. From underneath the bed, it fell." Soul gulped and frowned at not being stronger.

But Maka smiled, "Hmmp. Very good. But how did you know the password."

"I don't know."

"Well, perhaps some guessing could be good enough. I admit, I didn't make it very secure, did I?" She laughed. But what was so funny? He didn't find anything about this situation the least bit entertaining.

Then Maka glared at him. "I'd like it if I could have a normal conversation, you don't have to be so cold. You seem so afraid."

It was like those words were some sort of release for him, he didn't feel very scared after she said the words, but almost... Comforted. And that scared him the most. Who would want to feel comfortable with a serial killer in the room with them!

"Yea, you suck at making passwords."

And again, he scared himself. Who would tell a killer they sucked at something? Did he have a death wish? Did he want to die?!

"I suppose you're right." She chuckled. Looking him in the eye, she smiled. "I've never had a captive before, only at their homes. Can you believe that, I've never held someone captive in my place?" she let out a giggle as she stared at him. She frowned when he didn't answer. "I guess its best not to joke with someone who's probably terrified out of their skull of you."

"No, it's not actually."

"Well, at least there's that we can agree on. You probably want to know if I'll send you on your way? Release you?" Soul nodded his head. Eagerly wanting to know, but if she did, would he die in his sleep? Because he knew too much? She wouldn't want to risk someone telling her scene to the police.

"I will, under one condition." she wandered to behind him.

"You have to keep my secrets and come back here everyday, I already looked up you schedule, and you're free after classes. So, you can keep my secret, or die now."

"What'll it be?"

* * *

Soul was stumbling down the sidewalk back to his house. He once again had his bag slung over his shoulder, but it had one less item in it. Maka's phone. She had taken it from his bag, and erased all data from his computer that he had uploaded the files to it.

He had caved in. Now he was expected to visit a murder every day. He didn't understand what she wanted to do with him, but he would have to figure that out later. He was just lucky she had forgotten about his notebook. So if he wanted to, he could always show it to his father.

It was morning now and his parents were probably having a panic attack. He could only hope that they were still asleep. He was sure that his mom would call the cops as soon as she woke up, she had that motherly trait that could sense when he son wasn't where he was supposed to be.

But yet, instead of running like his life depended on it, he walked. Maybe it was because he was stunned, maybe he just couldn't find the energy or drive to move faster.

* * *

His house was quiet, and almost eerie. He had checked his parents room and they were still sound asleep. Even if he had layed down in bed, snuggling into his comfy sheets, he couldn't keep his eyes shut. They stayed open up until the second his alarm clock went off. Mindlessly getting up and shrugging off his current close, and putting on new ones; a black T-shirt, a white jacket, and a pair of grey skinny jeans. His mother came into the room with a cup of coffee in her hands.

"Morning sweetie! Ready for class today?" She asked enthusiastically.

Soul smiled at his mother, the warmth of a familiar soul comforting his petrified one. "Yea, mom. Of course I am."

"Good, I made you some breakfast, it's down stairs. Don't let it get cold." And his mother had left for work afterward. His father following after. Luckily, Soul didn't have to join him because of his collage classes.

It was only 9:00; and his classes didn't start till' noon. So he was left sitting in the living room of his house, watching old reruns of 'Drake & Josh'. He had long ago disposed of his breakfast plate, and had grabbed and extra few pieces of bacon out of the fridge.

There was knocking on his door, so he got up to answer it. It took some energy to actually get on his feet though, he still hadn't slept all night, and would most likely fall asleep in class today.

Or not.

He opened the door and found Maka, staring at him. Instead of whatever outfit she had worn last night, when she kidnaped him, she was dressed in a white shirt and a red plaid skirt. He had only stared at her, with a piece of bacon hanging out of his mouth.

"Hello, Soul."

"Uh... Hi."

"..."

"You are a terrible host. Aren't you going to let me in?"

"Sure."

And he opened the door more so that she could step in, and as she did, all of her hair swung and smacked him in the face. He walked back into the living room and sat down after having closed the door.

He felt... Awkward. For lack of a better word. He continued to watch him, watch TV. For about two minuets before something snapped.

"How did you get here without anyone recognizing you?"

"Oh, that's funny. I figured you would know, you dad is a cop isn't he?" She laughed at him.

"He's a detective, and why does it matter? How do you know that? How do you even know where I live?!" All of these questions shooting out of his mouth with small bits of bacon tha had been left in his mouth came flying out after them.

Maka wiped her face before answering. "How do I know where any pf my victim's houses are? I do my research, Soul. I know these things." She said, crossing her legs and looking up at the TV for a while. "And I figured that you would know because of your dad. It makes sense, doesn't it? That you would know my stage name?"

"Masquerade Maka?"

"Mm hmm. Masquerade means false outward show; a façade. No one has ever seen my face before but the victims." She smiled.

"So you can just go walking on the street? Like you're a normal person?!" He asked, shocked. He had never thought of a murderer just walking about the streets as if they had never broken a single rule in their life.

"But, Soul, serial killers are people, too, ya' know. We just have a more interesting hobby than every one else." She stated, very matter-of-factly. Even if it sounded really twisted to Soul, she almost had a point.

"Umm... That's an interesting way to put it, I guess..."

"Yes, it is indeed." She laughed. "I never actually though I would be in someones how without having a knife with me."

"T-that's p-pretty random, d-don't you think?!" He stuttered, taken back by her statement.

"Yea, but it's only natural for me." She sighed, leaning backward on the couch.

"Yea, I suppose it is." Was all he could muster. Everything was so weird for him now. He had a killer in his house, and he couldn't lie about having to get to class because she had told him last night that she knew his schedule. He couldn't just kick her out either, how could her? How does one just simply kick a serial killer out of their home? 'It was great having you, but you scare the shit out of me, bye."?

"I guess that this isn't the most normal thing for you, having a... 'Cold hearted killer' in your house. But the least you could do is _act_ like you aren't scared shitless."

"Oh, uh, s-sorry. You would p-probably be the same if you w-were in my place." he stuttered, again. That seemed to be the only way he could talk to her, stuttering.

"I suppose you're right. But I have to go, and don't forget, you have to come and see me tonight." And with that, she left.

Maybe he wouldn't be falling asleep in class.

* * *

He had gone to see her, and he had followed her orders and requests for a whole month.

It had become a normal thing in his routine. Go to class, come home, then go to Maka's hide out. So simple, until his parents wanted to meet the person he was spending so much time with. That was the only flaw, because he felt guilty having become the friend of a killer. It was painful to hear his dad talk at the dinner table, always going on how everyone was lost on what to do next, he had mentioned that the crew was even considering dropping the thing. There was nothing new for him to follow ecept for a break in that had happened a week back.

He had noticed that everytime he had talked to Maka she had mentioned less and less about her life as a criminal, and he also took notice that he didn't act like he had before.

It all felt so weird, in his chest, he had never had the same feeling he had whenever he talked to her, and it was all to strange. He was already crossing a line when he had met her in the first place, but going any further would be death for both.

But it's not like guy was worried anymore. He didn't feel as if there were going to be any more murders done by Maka anymore. He no longer felt the threat of being killed in his sleep.

He had found the soft side of a killer and that was amazing.

* * *

"So, Maka, tell us, why is it that you haven't killed anyone recently? Didn't I give you your new list?" Asked Medusa, she had been on her adopted daughters case since about a day after she had taken the strange Soul boy captive.

"I just haven't felt like it recently, I need a rest from the running right now." She sighed. She wasn't really paying much attention. She was confused with herself. Well, not confused with herself exactly. She knew why she was confused but she didn't like the reason.

She hadn't been herself. She hadn't killed anyone, in a month. Soul had told her that the department was talking about not following her cases anymore, she didn't like that. She killed for the attention, but she didn't want to scare away the only normal friend she had.

Especially when she was sure she didn't just think of him as a friend. Maka knew it wasn't right, he was the son of a detective, the son of someone who could put her behind bars.

"Well, you better kill someone soon, or you will just be forgotten by the police. Heres a new victim. I've had problems with this ones parents. Get it done before the end of next month.

Maka looked at the picture she had been handed.

"Wait, Medusa-"

But Medusa was gone. Maka stared at the picture in her hand. Had she not remembered? Was it possible for her to have forgotten?

She couldn't do this one. There was no way.

She would not kill Soul Evans family.

* * *

So she had killed someone else's.

A few other people had to suffer. The victims were the ones she left to live, it was the family she killed.

A girl, very young. Named Angela. All she had to do was simply cut of her guardian's fingers, feet, and scoop his eyes like she had done many times. This little one was the worst, when she released the gag and handed her the phone, she had hit her first, a few times. giving Maka barely enough time to get away.

The next was a girl around the same age as her, her name was Jackie. She had cried through the whole thing, but she was having a sleep over that night. So her friend had to suffer to. And once again, she had whispered to them what they were to tell no one, handed them the phone.

The last one was just sad.

He lived by himself. All alone, so she had to call the cops before the killing.

It was difficult, that gave her a time limit. And it was by no means easy. She let them tell the police their address, their names, and who it was that was at fault. Then, before they got an answer, she stabbed them in the head. And only took as little time as possible with the fingers.

But she didn't feel the same sadistic pleasure she normally felt. The feeling of power and hatred. She felt empty and disturbed. Disgusted when she realised how fucked up her life was.

And then came the day, where Medusa had _ordered _her to go and kill Soul's family. But of course she had an argument with her, explaining everything. Getting laughs from Medusa as she told her why she was puting off the kill.

She figured it out herself. Why she was confused.

And she felt like shit when she walked up to their house.

* * *

Soul heard a knock at the door, it was only about an hour before he was going to meet Maka. His parents were home, and his dad was exited about something important that had happened at work. For all Soul knew, no new murders had happened, and if any had then the rest of the town had no idea of them. He was hoping it was nothing Maka related.

So when he got to the door, he was very surprized.

There Maka stood, in front of his door while his parents were home. His mother looked over from the dished and smiled. "Soul? Who's that?" And she placed the dish she was drying and walked over. "Hello."

"Uh, mom this is, uh-"

"Taylor, my name is Taylor." Maka smiled and held out a hand for his mother to shake.

"Well, it's very nice to meet you! I'm Clementine." Soul mother beamed. All to exited to be meeting who her son spends all of his time with.

"Who's at the door, Clem- Oh, well hello there, are you Soul's friend?" Samuel asked as he shook her hand. "Soul? Is this the person you were talking about when you said you had a new friend?"

"Um, yea. Yes she is." Soul answered.

"Well, come in! We were going to make Soul stay home tonight, but you are more than welcome to join us for dinner now that we've met." Clementine greeted Maka with warmth.

"Thank you, Mrs. Evans."

* * *

"So, Taylor, how did you meet Soul?" Samuel Evans asked his son's friend.

"Um, we have the same classes." Maka said, swallowing down the scoop of mashed potatoes Soul's mother had made for dinner.

"How is he in class? He doesn't fall asleep does he?" Clementine joked, Soul rolled his eyes.

"No, mom, I don't fall asleep in class." The killer's friend snorted.

All Maka could do was laugh a bit while they talked. She didn't know how to answer questions she didn't know the answer to. She relied on Soul for everything. Even if she hadn't payed attention to most of the meal, she felt happy, and normal.

But now it was just awkward.

"So, Taylor, are you and Soul..." Clementine clapped giddily. "Dating?"

Soul coked on his water and Maka nearly spit up the piece of chicken she was chewing.

"Mom!" Soul's face was incredible flustered when Maka looked over to him. She was getting red, too. She asked to be excused so she should use the bathroom. It was mostly just a short escape from the incredible tension growing in the air.

_**~~wooooshhhh~~**_

She splashed water on her face.

Maka realised how incredibly helpful Clementines words were, she knew she wanted to date Soul. But that was ridiculous. She had practically scared him into being her friend and now she had some sort of crush on him.

"Ma- Taylor. You okay?"

She opened the door and walked out. Soul stood there just across the hall with his hands in his pockets, looking at her.

"Yea, I'm fine. Can we talk though."

"Uh, yea, sure. Come with me." She assumed that Soul was leading her to his room. He walked into a room with red walls and grey carpeting. It was neet, but there were cloths everywhere in the corners.

"Sorry I didn't clean up-"

She didn't give him a chance to talk and she kissed him.

She kissed Soul. And he kissed back.

* * *

Samuel was worried.

He could tell when someone was lying and it was obvious that Taylor wasn't that girls real name. He had an idea though, and it was more than likely to give him the real name of his son's friend.

His wife was running down the hall, giddy with happiness. "Sam!" She whispered/yelled. "Come here! Hurry!"

She rushed him to their son's cracked door. He peered in, he was even more worried now. His son was kissing the girl he claimed as a friend and no more.

"Look! Soul's in love! Can you believe this?!" Clem whispered again as she closed the door and walked back with her husband to the kitchen. "Isn't this fantastic?!"

"No, Clem. It isn't, that girl worries me."

"Why?" She looked at her husband worried.

"Go get the glass she was useing, but hold it with a cloth, now, then come to our room."

All Clem could do was follow orders as she wondered why her husband wanted her to do this. Why did Taylor worry him? What was wrong with her?

"Give me the cup, quickly." Sam rushed her. If he was right, then he was going to have a seriouse conversation with his son.

What are you going to do, Sam?"

"Just give me the cup."

She was startled, she had only now seen the bust and brush, and she scanner her husband had gotten out. Was he looking for finger prints? What for? "What is the meaning of all this?"

"I don't trust that girl." He said, taking the glass that was covered with a dish towel. "I think she's the killer we've been after."

"What?! What makes you think a nice little girl like her is a killer!"

She got no answer, Sam just dusted for prints. He took a picture and sent it to the station. _'Hurry, match these finger prints. As fast as you can."_

"Sam! You are not really sending the girls finger prints to the police, are you!"

"Of course I am! The girl could be a killer, and if she is then we're all in trouble! Now be quiet!"

"She did, she stayed quiet and hoped that her son's new girlfriend was not indeed a killer, she wanted to think anything but the thought of her son being with s serial killer.

"They replied."

"What does it say?!"

_"She's our girl."_

* * *

Police sirens rang through the whole neighborhood. Soul knew this couldn't be good, he and Maka ran to the living room where he found his mother crying and dad fuming with anger seeping out of her ears.

Soul had just gotten a girlfriend, and she was going to be arrested.

"I know who you are, _Taylor._ You are Masquerade Maka, and you are under-"

"NOO!" His mother cried out, Soul fell back ward, he was all to shocked. "Maka...!"

Maka just stabbed his father, in the head. And his mother, too.

* * *

Maka dropped the knife she was holding and turned to Soul, she had just killed his parent's. And she was getting arrested for sure. "S-soul. I-"

"EVERYBODY FREEZE."

"She killed him! She killed Mr. Evans!"

"He's the one who was supposed to arrest her in the first place!"

"Make his son do it!"

What was happening? Everyone was talking so fast that the only thing she caught was Soul being ordered to arrest her in place of his father. She looked at him and she saw he was on the verge of tears. So was she, she stepped towards him, but she got pulled back by one of the cops.

She stared at Soul with vacant eyes, he looked back with wide eyes and reddening eyes.

"Soul, are you going to do it or not?"

His mouth opened and closed, nothing was coming out, he couldn't answer.

"Make a decision, boy! She killed your mother and father!"

His face turned cold. Soul looked like he was furious and empty and sad.

He took a pair of cuffs from one of the officers who were restraining her.

"Maka Albarn. you are under arrest for the murders of over 50 people, including my parent's. You have no right to remain silent, no right to attorney, and you do not have the right to fair trial."

* * *

(five days later)

"I want my phone call."

They handed her a phone.

_"Hello?"_

_"..."_

_"Hello?"_

"I loved you."

And she hung up.

She had called Soul, only said that. The second she was arrested he had left her alone, broken and more than corrupted in her cell.

* * *

**The end! Tada, hope this was good, it took me a while and I have a major head ache. But I feel as if this is a bit rushed at the end :I Was it?**

**If anyone wants a story about something similar to this idea, then just PM me or leave it in a review! **

**REVEIW :D**


	2. Trigger Happy

**Here is another edition to Murder files! :) Sorry for the long wait T.T A verrrryyyy long wait.. I've been focusing a lot of my writing energy on my Fiction Press account stories.. So yea. And since I've decided to not prolong this chapter, I've cut it into two pieces :3 the rest of it should be next!**

**Point out any mistakes? :P **

* * *

**Prison Break**

* * *

"Eater! Get back here!"

"In your dreams! Old man!"

The white-haired mischief-maker chucked as he made his run for the gates, darting through the old cell blocks, only about two or three guards following him. His finger itched to grab hold of a gun and just shoot his way out of isolation.

After all, locking up a trigger happy escape artist with the wish to hear the beloved _click _and _bang _of a gunshot isn't the smartest idea. Especially when their prison guard puts his guard down. So now, here he was. The 21-year-old parkour expert and trigger happy criminal know as Soul Eater, escaping after 5 years of rotting in his cell. Pushing past anything and anyone who gets in his way of freedom.

Oh, this was gonna be fun.

No, this was gonna be cool.

While passing a very surprised and very slow guard as he watched the door, Soul managed to snatch the gun from his belt. His finger twitched again. And then came the smirk, the smirk that once drove the women crazy, but soon drove them away when he showed his true nature. His mind, buzzing with excitement, so desperately wanted to hear the _click _ and _bang. _

"Now_ this_ is what I'm talking about!" aiming and shooting and dodging at everything that came at him; Blowing the heads off of every guard he could and deepening the wicked love he has for that sound the gun makes, the sound his ears yearned for. And though he agreed with the idea of setting himself free, and out of the horrid smelling meat locker, not many of his cell mates did.

"Ol' Eaters tryin' t' break 'imself out now is he?"

"Not 'n our watch! He ain't us 'ere t' rot!"

And pretty soon, a riot surrounded him. His fellow prison mates grabbed at him, trying to keep him back. It was almost difficult , considering they are all _much _bigger and _much _stronger than himself. The guards, who hadn't been shot, were catching up to him. He could hear the shouts they made, ushering to get as many of the prisoners as they could out-of-the-way.

Again, his finger twitched.

_Bang! Bang! Bang!_

And down goes the men who had his arms. And away he goes, amazingly silent as he escapes the noisy crowd that the guards thought he still was in. Climbing his way up the side of the guard watch tower, where he then proceeded to shoot the officers that are up there, unaware of the riot going on below because of sound canceling headphones. Then, taking the bullets from their guns for his own, and as well as the keys to the gate that blocked his entrance to civilization.

"THERE HE IS!"

"DON'T LET 'IM GET AWAY!"

And as slick as a monkey climbing trees, he slid down the pole and landed on the roof of his cold home. Speeding straight to the edge and jumping, where he, once again, grabbed hold of the metal fencing and crawled on it until he met the lock hung, securing two large gates together. Once it was open, he dropped the lock and ran to the nearest police car and started to hot wire it.

Though with the rest of the building out to get him, it was a little tricky and pressuring. He urged himself to go faster, as fast as he could. It had been a while since he had tried hot wiring a vehicle, hell, it's been a while since he even _sat_ on something either than rocks or the thin sheets of cloth that he was expected to call a bed. And after about five tries, _click_.

It had worked, but the fastest flash of blue had caught him of guard for a meer second. He smirked again, but not his usually trigger happy smirk he got when his finger was itching for a gun, this was just that of a normal person. Well, as normal as a guy with razor-sharp teeth, blindingly white hair, and eyes as red as the blood that leaked from the skulls whom his bullets meet.

"You ain't planin' on leavin' me behind, now are you, Eater?" His good friend questioned him with a fake pained face.

"Of course not, Black*Star, now get in the damn car."

As they sped off, the two laughed as they watched last living population of the prison chased after him. "You'll be thanking your God now, peasant!" Black*Star slapped his long-time partner-in-crime on the back.

"Oh yeah? And what for? Landing us here on the first place?" Soul joked, his blue-haired accompli glared at the reminder of the painful memory.

"No!" He protested, Soul just chuckled and shook his head a little at the man beside him. "For saving your sorry ass! If it weren't for me, you woulda' had a buncha' guys on you!"

"Well then, thanks. Now where do you think we should stop first?" He side-smirked at the now giddy, 8-year-old boy looking Black*Star who eagerly thought the idea of doing something other than breaking rocks for once.

"How bout' we just go 'n visit our old hangout? See if the girls still hang around there?"

"Totally."

* * *

"So, Maka, what book are you looking to buy _this _time." Marie, the book shop owner, joked at her. Maka had been here countless times and had more books than she could count, though, that was probably an under statement. She could count all the books she owned, she just didn't have the time to spend her whole day counting all the paper-backed, or hard covered pieces of literature she owned.

"I'm getting a book for Papa, his birthday is tomorrow and I wouldn't know what else to get him." Maka smiled, even though she knew her Papa would be happy with whatever she got him. It didn't take much for her to earn the gratitude from him. As long as she still called him Papa and said she loved him, he would be a happy camper.

"Oh, well it's the thought that counts, and tell Spirit that Stein and I said 'happy birthday'!" The woman waved. Maka nodded and set out to look for something Spirit would be into. He doesn't read as much as he used to, with his work piling up on him and all.

Coming across a few books on animals for children, she laughed. Thinking about her fathers reaction if she were to buy these for him. A mix of happy tears and confused feelings? Yes.

But she moved to the fictional section of books, her Papa had always liked to read fiction, so should she get them for him? Maka shrugged and took a few after reading the backs of them.

So she walked back up to Marie and payed. She smiled and placed her books in her bag, then thanked her and walked out of the store. She glanced down the bricked street and started thinking about other things she needed to do. Nothing came to mind, so she decided to just go home. She would have some cleaning and preparations for the party tomorrow, and Maka would have to remember to call Tsubaki over to help her with cooking.

. .. . .. . .. . .. .

"Thanks for coming aver, Tsubaki, I really hope I didn't interrupt you, or anything." Maka mumbled, guiltily. She hated thinking that she was taking up time in her friends lives. She had already set up her array of cooking utensils, ones she hardly ever used, that she had received in a package from her mother. Tsubaki was shifting through them, looking for the proper tool to stir the cake mix they had yet to make.

"It's fine Maka, I wasn't busy, in fact, I'm happy you called me over to help, I was kinda bored anyway!" Tsubaki giggled at her best friend, as she shifted through the kitchen ware on the table she picked out a few and held them, looking at them like and expert, then replacing them with another one.

"Really? You don't mind coming over so abruptly?" Maka sighed, she was releaved. Now she had to focus on the task at hand so she could continue setting up for the celebration. They had to make a cake, and some other dishes; she normally wouldn't make much but it was the first year that her papa had met her friends and he got along with them pretty well, so when they heard it was her fathers birthday they wanted to come and celebrate. There was going to be more people and Patti and Ragnarök had pretty big mouths.

"Of course I don't! Now come on, let's get cooking, shall we?" Maka's friend smiled brightly, holding up a whisk in one hand and a bag of flour in the other. She smiled back and got out the cake mix ingredients.

...

Time lapse~

...

"Ummm... Tsubaki? I think I did something wrong... again..."

"Hm? What is it-?! Maka! What happened?!"

Suppose it was her fault, after all, poor Tsubaki had just gone to the bathroom for a moment. And Maka had just tried to continue the mix, she had a pretty good grasp of what to do, she thought she did at least. But during the few moments of her being in he kitchen by herself she had somehow managed to turn the cake batter into a mushy clump of a strange greenish-orange-ish color. She had also managed to knock the flour to the ground, causing a carpet of white on the tile to appear, and dropped a couple of eggs in the few minutes that Tsubaki was gone.

Given that she had accidentally spilled a bit of food coloring in it while she was moving some of the contents on the counter. But, the weird thing that she didn't get was that the batter inside the bowel was _pulsing, _as if it were alive, and Maka doesn't quite know what she put in it to make it do so.

"Oh, dear..." Tsubaki sweat dropped... "Well, I suppose we should clean up and start over then, huh?"

"Tsubaki! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to make a mess! I-I was just trying t-to help!" Maka apologized, bowing. But as she frowned, she noticed they no longer had the right amount of ingredients needed. She sighed, "I suppose I should start cleaning up, then go buy more stuff."

"Oh, don't worry, I'll clean up, you just worry about getting the new ingredients, okay Maka?" She stepped forward to grab some paper towels, but Maka halted her, shoving her hand out in front of Tsubaki.

"No, I made the mess, I should be the one cleaning it up." She reasoned, taking the paper towels that her friend had gone for. "It's the least I should do for making us have to start over."

Smiling, the raven haired girl nodded. "Okay, I'll be right back." turning her back to the girl who was shamefully wiping up red dye off of the counter tops. "Don't blow the house up!" she joked, waving back to her friend as she exited the door.

* * *

"Well, well, well. This a nice surprise, eh Patti The boys are finally out of jail now are they? Took you long enough."

"Gee, Liz, you haven't changed a bit, " The albino sarcastically rolled his eyes, sitting back onto the old and worn out sofa. He and Black*Star were now currently nested in an old run down bank. It had gone a out of business a good seven years back. He and the other three criminals in the room had come across it when they were still early in their risky career decision. "Still as girly and perverted as ever I see." he nodded his silver head of hair to the walls, covered in pictures of half-naked male modules and weird frilly lookin' pink curtains.

Soul laughed as the tall blond huffed in response, also lifting his feet onto something that looked like a coffee table. It as well littered with all sorts of odd girly things, like nail polishes, weird and pink notebooks with pens that have fluff on the ends of them... some... other things that he didn't even know what they were.

Mimicking his, Liz had rolled her eyes at the two boys. "So then, how did you two get out, anyway? I don't believe that someone just set you free, spill it." She rested her head on her fist as she propped her elbow up onto the cushioned back of the couch.

Then, as a buff and tan arm came clamping down onto Soul's shoulder, he almost fell off on impact. "ME AND EATER HERE TOOK DOWN THOSE WEAKLINGS ONE BY ONE! WE WERE UNSTOPPABLE! AHAHAHAHAHA"

"Yeah, sure you were, Soul, whats the real story?" Liz sighed, rubbing her temples. She had just been starting to relax without the loud mouth around and now her poors were gonna be the ones suffering from his sudden presence. Patti, the younger and more violent one of the Thompson sisters, was sitting across from the boys, coloring a giraffe in her coloring books. _'Same ol' Patti...' _He thought.

"Well, it started out with me, a couple guards on my tail, just chasing me around. I got outside, was cornered until-"

"You got a gun, of course. You don't need to say anymore, we get the picture." The girl laughed, "Mr. Trigger happy gets his hands on a gun, all hell brakes loose. We get it." Liz gave Soul a pat on the back.

"Actually, Liz, I got a gun while I was in the building."

"Hey Sis~" Sang a bouncing short-haired blond. "When are we supposed to go to Maka's?" She held up her yellow crayon up to the corner of her mouth. "Isn't Mr. Whore having a birthday tomorrow?" Soul raised his eyebrow questioningly at the elder sister, who sighed and walked over to her younger sibling.

"Patti, what did I say about calling Spirit that? Ya' know one day we aren't gonna be allowed back in that house because of it." She layed her arm over Patti's shoulder.

"But I thought that Maka-chan found it funny, too?" The bright blond looked up at the taller blond. Liz nodded in response and laughed a little as well, the boys still confused about what they're talking about. "Yea, but she only likes it because it's true." She then looked back to the newly free prison escapees who were staring at her and her sister with eyebrows raised so high, you couldn't even see them under all that hair.

"I'll explain later, but right now, hows 'bout you two take a shower? You reek like jail." she scrunched her noes up as she finally got a good wif of the air.

"That's because we've been in prison, jack-ass." Mumbled a 'prison reeking' albino.

"Don't you use that tone with me, boy! I can kick both a ya'll sorry asses right back to your cell if you'd like me to!"

"Shut up, Soul! We just got outta there, my godliness doesn't need to be contained for five more years!" Black*Star shushed his friend from saying anymore, he was going to stay on the devil woman's safe side for now. Liz scared the shit out of both of them.

* * *

** time laps? :D **

* * *

Thing's were, how do you say... Hectic, in the Albarn home that morning.

"Kid! Stop it! The picture frames don't matter right now!"

"Yes they do! Do you see their arrangement?! It's completely asymmetrical! Garbage! I must fix it!" Kid was wrestling Maka to get to the picture frames, that were at the moment is a disarray.

"Kid! If you're going to have a symmetry freak out, at least wait until the girls-"

"HEY EVERYBODY! LOOK AT MY GIRAFFE!" Giggled a booming voice from the door, who was joyfully holding up her spotted stuffed animal. Speaking of doors, the one to Maka's house was now falling off of it's hinges.

"Patti! What did I tell you about breaking down their door!"

Maka sweat-dropped, this was the usual behavior of the Thompson sisters. She was used to it but she wasn't quite used to having to fix her door after every visit. And as soon as the broken wood, tilted and loose, came to a point that was as closed as it going to get, the thing burst open for a second time.

"God dammit, Blake! Do you have to break everything you touch?!"

Hearing the unfamiliar, deep, male voice, Maka turned her head in the general direction it came from. She was in the kitchen and had to walk out of the threshold that lead directly to the loft of her home, which was also part of her living room.

When the frantic group came into view, two new faces emerged in in the scene. One was the face of a tall and tan male with dark black, shaggy hair and green eyes, the second was about a half foot shorter than the first, with lighter brown hair and whose eye color was almost orange.

"Hey guys whats-"

"MAKA! I MISSED YEWW!" The short and bouncing blond glomped the unsuspecting and frightened Maka. She had been shoved back and nearly suffocated by Patti, before Liz came and pulled her sister away.

Giving a sheepish smirk, Liz sighed and looked around the house. "Sorry Maka, but do you need some help with three-strips over there?" The brunette jerked a thumb to the direction of the kitchen.

"Yes, actually..." Maka sweet dropped and bowed thankfully as Liz left for the other room, patty trailing behind her.

.

.

"Bye guys, be safe!" Maka called out while her father and his friends left for the bar, She closed the door and sighed. Turning back to the group. Soul watched and listened, waiting for the moment everyone had to leave. Because there were a lot of cool things in this house, a _lot _of cool things. There's everything from antique guns on the dining room walls to old collectible war knives on a shelf in the family room. Spirit was a damn good collector. And Soul was jealous.

He had been scheming for a way to get his hands on some of them, or even all of them. He had thought up everything to the moment when both Maka and her father would both be out of the house. And then everything just got even easier for him. When Maka had announced that she had college class things to take care of and would have to leave a little after her father would, resulting in all of them having to leave also.

It was his opening, sure he had to leave with Liz, Patti, and Black*Star, or Blake, going by the name that Liz had given him. They had to have the names that weren't belonging to escaped convicts. Soul's name was now Seth. He didn't like it much, claiming it sounded 'uncool', Liz had just rolled her eyes at him and told him to deal with it.

Everyone spent a good extra couple minutes talking before Maka announced everyone had to leave, and that she'd be off. Soul smirked to himself, it was about time for him to tell Liz why he would be getting home late.

They were about half way from Maka's house already, and he found his opening. Liz was still driving down the road, wiping her head to Kesha like any other time they were in the car. Black*Star was singing like a strangled moose. Soul was surprised that Liz was ignoring it, it was deafening to listen to BS sing.

Seeing an old bar come into view, Soul turned down the volume so he could speak to Liz.

"What is it now?" She asked, annoyed. Reaching her hand out to turn the volume up.

He sighed, "I need you to drop me off at that bar there."

"Um. Why? I thought you liked higher quality beer? And besides, Hal hasn't been in there for months." Liz stated.

Soul sighed again, "Look, just drop me off there, I have something I need to get."

.

.


End file.
